


slippery feet

by puny



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic, F/F, Fluff, Genderswap, Roller Derby AU, Rule 63, cw for moderate injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5838124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puny/pseuds/puny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noya falls all the time! Not like this, though. Never like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	slippery feet

**Author's Note:**

> the desire for sapphic asanoyas seized me and wouldn't let go so here's this... this reprehensible heap of gay fluff, heavily inspired by the (excellent) ellen page movie Whip It 
> 
> content warnings! for alcohol consumption & mild/moderate injuries

This is how Nishinoya meets the Most Perfect Person on Earth.

☆

Noya breathes, eyes closed. In, out.

She opens them to the rumble of the stadium and the tense, excited faces of her teammates, the the tang of sweat heavy in her nostrils. Adrenaline's building in her veins already; she rolls one leg forward and one back, scissoring them, wound tight with anticipation. 

“Line up!” yells Daichi, buckling her own helmet under her chin. Out of the corner of her eye, Noya sees Hinata whirl in tight circles like a wind-up toy. She's practically vibrating. Daichi glowers at them. “I said line up!” 

Noya rolls into position beside Ryuu, who is currently engaged in a vicious intimidation sneer-off with Taketora that threatens to send all the girls tumbling off the slanted track. Saeko's announcing tonight, and she's hollering some sensationalist ladies-and-gentlemen blah-blah garbabge-heap-battle stuff as Noya fistbumps Daichi and Hinata, checks her kneepads' fit, elbows Ryuu in the side, and braces one toe against the ground behind her. She doesn't even need to listen to Saeko hyping everything up, just the excitement in the room stretching taut like a rubber band, higher, higher, the crowd silent until the whistle sreams and Noya responds to it like its shrill shriek is wired right into her nervous system, which at this point it probably is. She shoots ahead of the rest of the pack of girls, legs pumping against the slanted boards of the track as she builds up momentum and then burns it away in the same instant, whizzing around. The other jammer this round is Yaku, who's clever and sorta scary but not as fast as Noya. Not tonight. The faces of the audience are a smeary blur as she catches up to the main pack of girls, all elbowing each other ferociously as the Crows attempt to clear a path for Noya and the Cats do their best to prevent it, two dozen legs pumping at ferocious speed. 

Points rack up on the scoreboard, the announcer howling as the girls shove new bruises into each other and go tumbling. The scores draw close; Yaku's in top form today, and of course Kenma's doing that crazy thing she does where you don't even see her until she's past you. Noya makes a mental note to find them both afterwards and tell them they're awesome. After she wins, of course. _C'mon,_ she thinks to herself, scanning for a spot to get through. 

Her crows don't let her down; Daichi hipchecks someone so hard it's like a bodyslam, grabs Suga's hand, and yells: "WHIP!" 

The rest of girls snap into a chain, hand over hand, and Noya seizes Kageyama's palm like a lifeline. Everyone heaves at once, like a wave, and the centrifugal force of a perfectly executed whip flings Noya forward so hard that right before Kageyama lets go a deep, dull _pop_ happens in her shoulder, but she's moving so fast it doesn't even register — it's like she's a comet entering orbit, sparks under her wheels, electric on adrenaline as she whips past the competition and snatches up those winning points. 

She whirls to a stop. The crowd is shrieking its many heads off, her teammates already heaping together into one writhing, celebratory beast. Tanaka detaches herself and crushes Noya in a hug, which hurts a little. Then she grabs Noya's arm to raise it WWE-champion-style above her head, and oh — that hurts a _lot_ — and it's maybe the noise and lights and maybe the blood thundering in her head or probably just the pain, but she thinks _aw shit_ and promptly blacks out. 

☆

Okay, no, this is how she meets the Most Perfect Person on Earth.

She wakes in a sour, sticky fog of sweat, which she recognizes as the locker room. When she opens her eyes a circle of faces are hovering over her. 

"Buh," she asks. 

"Oh my god you are ALIVE," says Tanaka, collapsing across Noya's chest.

"Ye-es," she agrees. "Ow." 

"Dislocated your shoulder," says Suga, pulling Ryuu off of her. "We should really lay off the whip." 

Noya shakes her dizzy head, making it dizzier. "Love the whip." 

"You probably love having two working arms, too," says Daichi. "I'll call an ambulance." 

"Nooo," says Noya, "noooooo. No... too money. Too many money." Her head's clearing up enough to remember how much the last hospital visit had cost her and Ryuu when they'd tried to win that bet. 

"Noya," Suga starts, but Noya just reaches up with her good arm and pats Suga's face until they shush. "Just push it back in, k, Suga? K." 

Hinata's eyes go wide as silver dollars. 

"You're kidding me." Daichi's looking thunderous. 

"S'minor. Minor complication. Anyone can do it, don't call the surgeon general guy." It's true, she's seen it. On TV, but still. 

"Not doing that," Suga says. "Uh uh." 

"Tanaka," Noya says, as it dawns on her how awesome this moment could potentially be in the kung fu movie that is their friendship. "I must ask... of you... a favor." 

" _Yes,_ " Tanaka breathes. "Awesome."

"Nine-one-one," Tsukishima interjects from somewhere. "Only three numbers. Really not that difficult." 

"Okay," Ryuu says, cracking her knuckles. "Shorty, grumpy, hold 'er steady." 

"Hey," says Kageyama as she and Hinata grab Noya's good side, bracing her. 

"You good, buddy?" Tanaka's hands curl around her bicep and shoulder. 

"I trust you with my life," says Noya, "but if I die, bury me in my skates." 

Tsukishima rolls her eyes so hard Noya can feel it but Tanaka's face wells up with emotion. "On three, okay?" 

Noya nods. 

"THREE," Ryuu howls, and _shoves,_ and the pain is blinding blinding ow ow ow like a battering ram and then there's a deep _clobmp_ sorta sound and it hurts it hurts it hurts and then– it doesn't. 

Silence. 

Their hands come off her, slowly, and Nishinoya carefully sits upright. Their eyes track her like she's Frankenstein's monster rising for the first time. Delicately, she picks up her arm and rotates it. There's little more than a tender soreness. 

Then she reaches out with the no-longer-injured arm and slugs Ryuu. "Thanks, buddy." 

The room erupts, mostly with Hinata screaming "SO COOL" at the height of her considerable volume. 

"I can't believe that went as smoothly as it did," Daichi says, and Suga shrugs. 

Tanaka swells with pride, leaping up onto one of the shitty wooden benches. "Let it never be said that there is _anything_ I wouldn't do for my best—" 

The bench folds in on itself, collapsing into a V of splinters and dumping Tanaka headfirst against the wall. It's over in an instant. She slumps against the bottommost row of lockers, unconscious. A trickle of blood winds down her buzzed scalp.

"Oh shit," says Yamaguchi, hushed. 

Noya, staring, thinks that sums it up pretty well.

☆

Okay, okay, so _this_ is how she meets The Most Perfect Person on Earth.

"So she's not gonna die, right? Right?" Noya says, gripping the metal rail of the gurney. 

"No! No, absolutely, uh, not," says the cute paramedic. Noya lets out a massive sigh of relief as she continues. "Concussion at worst, I think, but I don't even really see any signs of that. We'll do more at the hospital, but right now she's pretty stable." She offers a little smile, and Noya thinks this is probably a really inappropriate time to find someone cute. "Looks like your friend's pretty hardheaded." 

Noya laughs, half relief. "Tell me about it. Once she tried to smash a can on her forehead to intimidate a team, grabbed a glass bottle instead, and then did it anyway." 

"Oh my gosh," she says, eyes comically wide. Noya was all wrong, she's not cute, she's _deathly_ cute. 

"Yeah. And once, this jammer tried to snare some points, Ryuu just straight up headbutted her in the boob. Hard. Ref called it, but it was awesome." 

Cute Paramedic winces. "Maybe you guys need to skate less... violently." 

"That's, like, the whole point of derby though," she grins. "Check it out, I dislocated and relocated this literally fifteen minutes ago." She hikes up her sleeve to reveal the beginnings of some gross yellow-green bruising. 

"Wait, _what?_ " Cute Paramedic says. "Who put it back?" 

"She did," Noya points to her sweat-soaked, heavily pierced, tattooed, unconscious friend. "In the locker room. It was really cool." 

"How are you alive," she says bleakly. Noya just beams.

☆

"Okay," the paramedic says. "Just keep a close eye on her for a while and do everything I said. Call the hospital if anything goes wrong." She hesitates. "And can you promise me to be careful with that shoulder? Just no... brawling or derby or anything for a little while, all right?"

She's biting her lip, which is not only super precious but drives Noya to say, "I dunno, I'd feel a lot better about it if I had your number." She smiles guilelessly. "You know, in case anything goes wrong." 

The nurse goes a sweet pink and Noya's worried for an instant that she screwed it up, but then she fumbles a Post-it from her scrubs and scribbles on it, slapping it on the pile of concussion information before thrusting the stack into Noya's arms and practically sprinting out of the room. 

It has a name and a number on it. Noya grins and gently fistbumps Ryuu's limp hand on the bed.

☆

"You shouldn't eat so much," says Ennoshita from her position on the couch. "How are you going to even play in the game tomorrow."

"Mmgphmph," says Ryuu. She has five neat new staples in her skull and chow mein trails from her mouth like tentacles as she chews. Noya would agree if she wasn't busy wolfing down her second helping of sweet and sour pork. Styrofoam containers in varying states of full litter the carpet under them, waiting to be devoured. Some terrible action movie they've all seen before is playing. 

"You can't judge us," Noya says, swallowing. "You're not even in it." 

"I have a _sprained ankle._ " 

Ryuu sprays noodle bits when she talks. "What kind of excuse is that?" 

"Besides," Noya adds, "we need the energy. So we can shred them to the _best_ of our ability." She pops another piece of pork into her mouth and chews. "And so Ryuu can flirt with Taketora-san." 

Ryuu sprays even more noodle bits, which Noya thinks is getting a little grosser and a lot funnier every time. "I am NOT–" 

"Oooh, Taketora!" Nishinoya says in a falsetto only slightly ruined by her mouthful of half-chewed gyoza. "I really really like your _mohawk_ and _tongue piercing_ and y–" Ryuu, bright red, lets out a battle cry and initiates a totally sweet chopstick fencing duel. Ennoshita just sighs and smacks them both on the head with the remote, turning the volume up when that fails to shut them up. The fight ends in a truce because Ryuu's chopstick splinters, they knock a beer bottle over, and the rest of the food's getting cold. 

Noya wakes up bleary-eyed a couple hours later, roused by gunshots on the screen. She gets up, picking her way across the wreckage of the take-out to pull the remote from Ennoshita's dozing hand and mute the explosions. The clock blinks 1:12 in bright neon green; Ryuu's snoring on the floor, curled around an empty sweet and sour soup container. Noya drapes a blanket over her and pats the soft shaved bits of her head. She really does hope Ryuu and Taketora work it out, because she loves Ryuu like, loads, and can already tell they're gonna be awesome together. The moon's fat and low and brighter white than the styrofoam of the takeout boxes, whiter than teeth knocked out on the derby ring. Noya climbs out onto the fire escape, pulling out her phone. She's a little tipsy, and anxious about the match but in totally a good way, and the vast fat moon and the gentle mumble of traffic downtown make the world feel huge and peaceful. She scrolls through her contacts, shivering a little in the warm night breeze. 

To: ASAHI!!!!!!  
_hey_

It's a weird time to text someone, but she thinks of big hands with bitten cuticles and a messy bun and doesn't care in the slightest. 

From: ASAHI!!!!!!  
_hi_

Noya smiles.

☆

It's a week later – a freakin' week, which is like a decade in Noya's Attention Span time – when she yanks her skate laces tight and goes careening out of the locker room.

"What's got you in such a hurry?" Daichi grabs her arm, sending them both into a wheeling spin. "We've got plays to go over." She holds up her clipboard of strategy diagrams. 

She does her best to wiggle out of Daichi's iron grip. "Captain, I memorized them already," – this is a lie and Daichi knows it – "I could beat any of the Cats with both skates tied behind my back, and, anyway, I've got something really, really, super important to attend to." 

"Oh yeah?" Daichi's tone drips skepticism. "And what's that?" 

Noya uses Daichi's grasp on her arm to pull her in close. _"Love,"_ she whispers conspiratorially in her captain's ear. 

"What?" Her grip loosens in surprise. Over her shoulder, Noya sees Suga walk in. 

"Speaking of which," she says, and gives Daichi a firm push towards the silver-haired manager. Daichi's on skates, which means her momentum carries her all the way across the room and she crashes into Suga with a very uncaptainly yelp. 

"NISHINOYA," Daichi roars in a tone that promises some truly terrifying retribution later. 

"JUST ASK THEM OUT," Noya hollers, and makes her escape. 

She scans the rows eagerly, skating in circles. It's early, the stadium's still filling in, and with all the bright lights on it still looks like the boring warehouse it usually is. She finally catches the face she's looking for, sitting in the front row, and zips over. 

"You came!" The grin feels like it's gonna split her face. 

"Yeah," Asahi tucks her hair behind her ear, and her smile is soft, and oh no Noya is super head over heels. 

"Who's this?" Noya hopes she doesn't look as disappointed as she feels, because the boy sitting next to Asahi is ridiculously pretty. 

"Ah!" Asahi jumps; the handsome dark-haired stranger smiles demurely. "This is Shimizu, a friend from work." She winces. "I was sort of anxious about coming alone." 

Noya beams at him – "nice to meet you!" and at Asahi. She knows it's sorta weird, asking someone to show up at a beer-sticky pseudo-stadium at weird hours of the night. "Don't worry, it's gonna be awesome!" Someone's yelling her name, cause the match is on in like half a minute, but she stays by the railing. Asahi and her friend look extremely out of place in the tattooed, tipsy crowd. "Everyone loves derby." 

"Mostly I'm worried about you getting a concussion..." 

"Haha, yeah," Noya slides back and forth on her wheels. "Not gonna lie, I'm pretty unlucky when it comes to that stuff." 

"I noticed." 

"Although," she says, heart pumping like she's already on the start line, "since you're here, I guess you could be my luck?" 

Asahi goes pink. "How does that work?" 

"Like this," Noya says, and darts in swift to drop a quick kiss on her cheek. 

Asahi's eyes go wide, but Noya doesn't have the balls to stick around for her response; she clamps both hands over her mouth as she skates away at top speed.

☆

They go out: victory drinking for the rest of them, misery drinking for Noya. They'd won the match (for once), which was awesome! It was! Up until Noya had looked round, chest heaving with exertion, and Asahi's seat was empty.

"You'll meet someone else," Ryuu assures her in a rush of beer breath. "Really! You're the coolest, Noya, there's a million cute paramedics out there for you." 

"She was the cutest paramedic," Noya moans. "Ryuu, it was fate. You busted your brains open for me to find a girlfriend, and I blew it." 

Ryuu smacks her on the back. "Don't worry, I'll bust my brains open again!" 

"I don't doubt it," Daichi smiles. "Maybe try texting her first, though." 

"I caaaaaaaan't." The wood of the table is sticky against her cheek. "She hates me now probably." 

"Hey now," Suga cuts in in their most reasonable voice, "aren't you sort of jumping to conclusions?" 

"She's got a bad case of heart eyes." Ryuu leans in close to stage-whisper. _"Real_ bad."

"Ah. Well, only one thing to do about that." Suga flags down the bartender. "Tequila, please." 

"Suga," Noya says sincerely, face still stuck to the bar, "you are the _best_ vice captain." 

☆

Noya works at one of those funky little faux-retro diner dealies, with sparkly red vinyl booths and burgers the size of her head and a pinball machine and all that corny stuff. She's technically supposed to be fry cook but there's never enough people on staff so mostly she serves, which she likes a lot actually because she can do it on her skates. It's good practice and her manager thinks it's awesome and super retro and, most importantly, she gets tipped _hella;_ people love it 'cause she's a badass and never drops their order.

Well, almost never. It's a standard day, busy hours just wrapping up. She's not counting on seeing Asahi standing there in the entrance looking petrified. Noya's brain overloads with excitement and confusion and she sort of forgets to brake and barrels straight into a family of five on their way out the door, knocking them to the floor like dominies and showering them all with garlic fries. 

"Oh, crap," Noya says at the exact instant that Asahi blurts out "doyouwanttogooutsometime?" 

Noya, sitting on the linoleum with her tailbone severely bruised, feels her face split into a huge smile. The poor family of five sit up, shaking fries out of their hair like sad potato confetti. Asahi puts her head in her hands.

☆

Ten minutes later, when the family has been placated with profuse apologies and complimentary milkshakes, Noya slides into a booth across from Asahi. She's nursing a milkshake of her own and blushing profusely.

"I'm sorry," she says, for the fiftieth time. "That's probably coming out of your paycheck, I really–" 

"Shh, don't be," Noya cuts her off. "It's fine. Really! I've done way worse, I promise." 

"I just–" Asahi cracks her fingers nervously, tugging at her knuckles. It's really cute. "I felt bad about last night. I know it looked like I bailed on you. I got called into work and my phone was dead – there was a bus crash, I'm really sorry, I wanted to see you win." 

"Oh my god," Noya says, "no, don't feel bad! Although, if you wanted to make it up..." she leans across the table. "Is that offer to go out sometime still valid?" 

Asahi goes a shade pinker. Noya steals her milkshake and sips it while she stammers something incoherent. 

"Alright then," she says, strawberry and heavy cream on her tongue. "It's a date."

☆

An owl hoots outside the window. _Go back to sleep,_ Noya thinks; it's only barely evening. Asahi's in the middle of making dinner for the both of them – Noya always offers to help, but Asahi has long since learned that Noya plus kitchen equals disaster so she's just sitting on the counter and being in the way. She always loves watching the practiced way Asahi cooks, grating cheese or chopping an onion or kneading dough with big careful hands. Something's off tonight, though: she can tell 'cause Asahi won't really meet her eyes right and doesn't offer spoonfuls of whatever's bubbling on the stove. They've been together for months now, and Noya's gotten way better about detecting when she's nervous about something.

"What's wrong?" Noya asks, swinging her feet. 

"Wrong? What? Me? I'm–" she starts, but Noya heads her off quick. 

"C'mon, it's me." She frowns. "You've been so jumpy and... weird. All night." She bites her lip, takes Asahi's floury hand. "I'm just worried, you know? Is stuff bad at work?" Paramedic work isn't a walk in the park; sometimes they lose someone and Asahi's curled in on herself dealing with it for a little while. 

"No," she says, gripping Noya's hand back. "No, it's not that – I wanted – I, uh," she gulps, looking so worried it's contagious. Noya's pulse is speeding up. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you." 

The pull of possibility hits Noya hard somewhere between throat and gut: her head suggests a dozen worst-case scenarios but she takes a deep breath, pushes them down. She trusts Asahi. 

"Okay," she says, rubs her other hand soothing over her girlfriend's. "Okay, yeah. Whatever it is, don't have a cow, I'm here." 

Asahi's anxiety solidifies; she closes her eyes. 

"Do you," she says, haltingly. "Would you move in with me?" 

Noya's mouth is hanging open. She thinks of her skates, hanging on a hook by Asahi's door; she thinks of every one of Asahi's sweaters she's fallen asleep in, sleeves dangling long past her hands. She thinks of all the times they've slept in way too late, and then played rock-paper-scissors to see who would go pick up the takeout, and then gone together anyway. She thinks of people at the laundromat glaring when they sit on the dryers and make out, and how much she doesn't care. She thinks of the way Asahi's face scrunches up with disgust when she chokes down Noya's special hangover potion, and the way Asahi's face smoothes out with bliss when she sips Noya's special hot chocolate. The way Asahi happened to her life like spring happens. Asahi's soft, soft hair, and her warm limbs draped round Noya, and her smile – sometimes Noya will catch her smile in the crowd during a match and she understands the whole cupid's arrow thing, she feels the _thunk_ hit and her heart stops and melts right there and then. 

"—not too far from the stadium," Asahi's saying nervously as Noya phases back into existence, "and I don't know, I know you really like living with Tanaka and Ennoshita and I understand if you don't— I just thought — I work weird hours so maybe you won't get too tired of—" 

"Yes," she interrupts, laying a palm along her girlfriend's jaw. "Yes. Yeah. Of course." A kiss. "I'd move in with you if you lived in a basement. I'd move in if you lived in a refrigerator box. I'd move in if you lived in the sewer with the rats and the alligators and the rat-alligators." She kisses her again. "I could never get tired of you." 

"You'll–?" Asahi asks. Her eyes are shining. "Really?"

"Of course," she says again, "of course," and she throws her arms round Asahi's neck and kisses her, this time like she means it. She feels Asahi's tears wet both their cheeks. Asahi, who smells sorta like cinnamon, except better, all the time, and who sucks really bad at bowling, and who stops to pet dogs on the street with Noya even if they're running really late to something. She's really strong and doesn't act like it, and really kind and _does_ act like it, and really really in love with Noya and tries her best not to act like it because she doesn't think Noya loves her as much, which she totally freaking does. She knows for sure because something in her swells bright with joy, blooming wherever they touch until she feels like she's bursting at the seams and she's gonna smooch stupid sweet Asahi until she gets that Noya's just as crazy about her.

When they finally break apart Noya rests her forehead against Asahi's, breathing her air. Their air, filling their apartment. Theirs.

"I love you," Asahi says, eyes closed, voice vulnerable.

"Me too," Noya says, "I love you. I love you too, so much." She feels Asahi smile. Dinner is gonna get cold but Asahi's neck is like sunshine under her palms. Noya's skates hang by the door and skyscrapers rise all around them and the moon is faint in the early evening sky, watching them through the window, pale and envious because it knows Noya's the number one luckiest person in the world.


End file.
